Alamut Valley... home of the assassins!
One thing about being in Iran is I'm doing a lot more touristing, because I really want to see more of this place than just a couple of cities and 2000 km of desert! Well, my route was taking me a mere 106 km from the site of the Alamut castle of Hassen-i-Sabbeh, founder of the Hashashin, or assassins as the word has become. Not just Alamut castle but 50 other assassin castles. A mere 100km or so? Looking at the map it seemed like a good morning of cycling over a mountain range then down and into the valley. Call it two days of exploring by bike, maybe get back for the third day. Great.
After a fairly late start, delayed by the usual tea and chat, I set off. And up the mountain I went. My map is fairly large scale and looking at it I judged the mountain to peak at around 6000 feet. Not the 7500 it proved to be. Still, no problem really, just a lot of hard work. The reward was a breath taking view of the valley and a descent down 4500 feet to the 3000 foot level. Then another steep, steep climb. By the time the sun was going down I'd done maybe 60 of those 106 kilometers. Hmm. Yes. He was called the Old Man of the Mountains wasn't he, not the Old Man of the Well Thought Out Gently Rising Cycle Path. I see where I went wrong...
The next day I was up and on the road by 7 AM. Took me four hours to make those 40 kilometers to a village by the name of Ghazor Kahn where the remains of Hassen-i-Sabbeh's castle stood. Again a lot of steep hills. I left my bike and had to walk up the last part. The castle is pretty destroyed and what's left is clad in scaffolding and corregated iron by the archeologists working there, but it's still amazing. This is the view from the top. You can see the village below and the last few kilometers of road.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6t3yRIp1g_FYQuhD_VitDtkcotPYETLXHJQ3YxCKp2Oo6-7qgh5q7fdL21ZxVqtxjwn41s-MUlAzZk0A1lwlU4D1CV5OSJaFl5aLCGHXW9Zz-uZEqsz-fHIq0pfbqT4Iqnb2c3g/s400/DSCN4084.JPG)
Had a good old stooge around, a wonderfully atmospheric place. It struck me as a sort of cross between Tintagel in Cornwall and Sigiriya in Sri Lanka. Notice the wall I'm leaning on... trying not to lean too hard as there are some scary drops involved.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgaCf2SnsD0-smL9zOHcVYNzVD1ItUhSUEcU-ObToWbiyrPKNOSVpVcQnsoDeCU5UPUXXNYh-p-hRIYQL5T-QPOiyyf93viQhjTktDFmyUhbV5pYCQQlxv3rdH478egMJ50XAgQ/s400/DSCN4091.JPG)
One thing I had to do was sit down and listen to Hawkwind a couple of times. Those of you who know what I'm talking about know what I'm talking about. Flashbacks to gigs I'd been to in the 80s. Ah, happy days. On a par to listening to Spinal Tap at Stone 'enge. One last photo from the castle.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid8V7PKBq-xO7Ii7NfvPtk95eURCYStB5ADpxoCRntgzIxXx6D8IPgiEVsGRqszENZHLE5zsb4WIVyX5-gc1B3pZOIyLficKGnf9ccWgDBT52n_KCN3qJIu0nyHj0pyL_jZHnblg/s400/DSCN4095.JPG)
After wandering around there for a couple of hours I went back down to the village and picked up a lovely little place to stay for around 3 Euros (I think). The next day though I did the unthinkable. It was going to take me two days to get back to Qazvin where I'd come from and time is running low. I arranged to put the bike in a savari (shared taxi) and thus ended the pure cycling. I had a bloody heaving heart then I can tell you. While I know it's the rational thing to do it just feels so wrong.
Anyway, song for the day... again, youtube is blocked here so I can't vouchsafe for it's quality.
After a fairly late start, delayed by the usual tea and chat, I set off. And up the mountain I went. My map is fairly large scale and looking at it I judged the mountain to peak at around 6000 feet. Not the 7500 it proved to be. Still, no problem really, just a lot of hard work. The reward was a breath taking view of the valley and a descent down 4500 feet to the 3000 foot level. Then another steep, steep climb. By the time the sun was going down I'd done maybe 60 of those 106 kilometers. Hmm. Yes. He was called the Old Man of the Mountains wasn't he, not the Old Man of the Well Thought Out Gently Rising Cycle Path. I see where I went wrong...
The next day I was up and on the road by 7 AM. Took me four hours to make those 40 kilometers to a village by the name of Ghazor Kahn where the remains of Hassen-i-Sabbeh's castle stood. Again a lot of steep hills. I left my bike and had to walk up the last part. The castle is pretty destroyed and what's left is clad in scaffolding and corregated iron by the archeologists working there, but it's still amazing. This is the view from the top. You can see the village below and the last few kilometers of road.
Had a good old stooge around, a wonderfully atmospheric place. It struck me as a sort of cross between Tintagel in Cornwall and Sigiriya in Sri Lanka. Notice the wall I'm leaning on... trying not to lean too hard as there are some scary drops involved.
One thing I had to do was sit down and listen to Hawkwind a couple of times. Those of you who know what I'm talking about know what I'm talking about. Flashbacks to gigs I'd been to in the 80s. Ah, happy days. On a par to listening to Spinal Tap at Stone 'enge. One last photo from the castle.
After wandering around there for a couple of hours I went back down to the village and picked up a lovely little place to stay for around 3 Euros (I think). The next day though I did the unthinkable. It was going to take me two days to get back to Qazvin where I'd come from and time is running low. I arranged to put the bike in a savari (shared taxi) and thus ended the pure cycling. I had a bloody heaving heart then I can tell you. While I know it's the rational thing to do it just feels so wrong.
Anyway, song for the day... again, youtube is blocked here so I can't vouchsafe for it's quality.
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